The Historical Jesus vs. the Christ of Faith: Can They Be Separated?

The figure of Jesus stands at the heart of Christianity, yet his identity sparks endless debate: Is he the historical Hebrew minister who walked the dusty roads of first-century Palestine, or the cosmic Christ of Faith, exalted in the confessions of the Church? This tension; between a Jesus of history and a Christ of faith; has fueled centuries of scholarship, theological reflection, and spiritual inquiry. Can these two figures (for the sake of Christianity’s continuance and survival) be meaningfully separated, or are they inextricably intertwined? Drawing on some insights (Anderson, 2013; Collins, n.d.; Samuels, n.d.; Wright, 1996), this blog post explores this interesting question, inviting you to also ponder the historical, theological, and philosophical implications of the Jesus character’s dual identity.

The Historical Jesus

The quest for the historical Jesus seeks to uncover the possible man behind the myth—a figure grounded in the cultural, religious, and political realities of first-century Hellenistic Judaism. Scholars like E.P. Sanders and N.T. Wright emphasize Jesus as an eschatological prophet proclaiming the imminent arrival of God’s kingdom (Sanders, 1995, as cited in Samuels, n.d.; Wright, 1996). Far from a timeless moral teacher, Jesus was a Galilean Hebrew (Galilee is in the land of Naphtali) who challenged the Roman occupation and Jewish religious establishment with a message of radical renewal. The actions of his ministry—calling disciples, enlightening people and doctrinally challenging the Sanhedrin, and overturning tables in the Temple—marked him as a charismatic leader, a “sage” with social and political implications (Borg, as cited in Samuels, n.d.).

Adela Yarbro Collins highlights Jesus’ distinctiveness even among other prophets like John the Baptist. Unlike John’s ascetic rigor, Jesus embraced table fellowship, symbolizing his God’s inclusive love and joy (Collins, n.d.). His teachings, rooted in Hebrew Scripture, carried an unprecedented authority, leading some to see him as the Messiah during his lifetime. Yet, his crucifixion—a brutal Roman execution—challenged messianic expectations, forcing followers to reinterpret his death as part of a divine plan (Collins, n.d.).

This historical Jesus is vivid, human, and deeply Hebrew. But can he be isolated from the Greek theological figure who emerged in the wake of his death?

The Christ of Faith

The Christ of Faith is the exalted figure of Christian confession, celebrated in the Pauline epistles, Johannine theology, and church doctrine. This Christ is not scripted as being merely a historical preacher but the cosmic savior, the “second name for Jesus” in Paul’s writings, embodying salvation for the church (Kärkkäinen, as cited in Samuels, n.d.). The Gospel of John, with its high Christology, presents the Jesus character as the manifested Greek Logos, the Word (Greek Logos) made flesh, distinct from the Synoptic Gospels’ focus on his humanity (Anderson, 2013).

For theologians like Pannenberg, Christology is about grounding the church’s confession in the historical activity of Jesus, yet it transcends history (Pannenberg, as cited in Samuels, n.d.). The Christ of Faith is confessed as risen, exalted, and returning—a figure woven into the nature of Christian worship, theory, and belief. This theological construct, shaped by post-resurrection experiences and Hellenistic influences, elevates the Jesus character beyond his Hebrew or Jewish context into a universal savior.

But does this elevation erase the historical Jesus, or does it depend on him?

The Tension: Can History and Faith Be Divided?

The debate over separating the Jesus of history from the Christ of Faith is not ultimately academic—it’s a philosophical and spiritual crossroads. Individuals like David Friedrich Strauss argued for a stark divide, dismissing miracles as mythological expressions of messianic belief rather than historical events (Collins, n.d.). Strauss’ naturalistic approach sought to strip away theology to reveal a purely human Jesus, a view echoed by John Dominic Crossan, who portrays Jesus as a non-apocalyptic sage akin to a Cynic philosopher (Wright, 1996).

Yet, this dichotomy is problematic. Paul N. Anderson challenges Strauss’ rigid separation, arguing that history and theology are “inextricably entwined” (Anderson, 2013, p. 81). The Gospel of John (despite its manuscript being heavily re-written by various authors), often dismissed as purely theological, contains more mundane and archaeologically verified details (not about the Jesus character) than the Synoptics, suggesting a historical core beneath its theological veneer (Anderson, 2013). Similarly, N.T. Wright rejects the divide, proposing that Jesus’ historical actions—his Temple critique, table fellowship, and self-understanding as a messianic figure—form the foundation for early Christian theology (Wright, 1996). For Wright, linking the resurrection to the Jesus character is the pivotal event: without it, Jesus’ movement would have fizzled like other failed messianic campaigns (Wright, 1996).

The Synoptic Gospels, too, blur the line. While they seek to emphasize Jesus’ humanity, their portrayal of him as a prophet and miracle-worker carries theological weight (Samuels, n.d.). Even the historical Jesus’ apocalyptic worldview, which modern academics downplay, was inherently theological, expressing hope in his God’s intervention (Collins, n.d.). As Anderson notes, “insignificant historicity is a contradiction of terms” (Anderson, 2013, p. 77). Events are remembered because they matter, and their significance is inherently subjective.

The Interplay of Memory and Meaning

Philosophically, the question of separating the Jesus of history from the Christ of Faith touches on the nature of memory, truth, and identity. History is not a sterile collection of facts but a narrative shaped by those who remember, and also by those that have the power to manipulate what others should remember. The early Christians’ belief in Jesus’ resurrection transformed their memory of him, not by erasing his historical reality but by infusing it with cosmic significance (Wright, 1996). As Borg suggests, the Gospels use metaphorical language to convey the Jesus character’s meaning, not just his actions (Samuels, n.d.).

This challenges us to consider: Can we know Jesus without faith, or does faith illuminate his history? For individuals like Vermes and Fredriksen, Jesus’ Jewishness is the key to his historical identity, grounding him in a specific cultural context (Samuels, n.d.). Yet, the Christ of Faith transcends this context, speaking to universal human longings for redemption and justice. The two are not mutually exclusive but dialectical, each informing the other.

Why It Matters

The debate over the historical Jesus and the Christ of Faith is more than an academic exercise—it’s a question of how we encounter “Jesus” today. For believers, the Christ of Faith offers a living presence, rooted in an embellishment of the historical Jesus’ life and death (there was no resurrection). For skeptics, the historical Jesus provides a tangible figure, free from dogmatic overlays. Both perspectives enrich our understanding, but neither fully captures the mystery of both the invented historical and mythological identity of the Jesus character identity.

As Wright argues, the historical Jesus’ radical vocation redefines our concept of “God” itself (Wright, 1996). This challenges comfortable orthodoxies and secular assumptions alike. Similarly, Collins’ call to interpret Jesus’ apocalyptic language metaphorically invites us to see his message as addressing timeless human desires for freedom and justice (Collins, n.d.). This was not a dying and rising demigod, but an individual that understood the Hebrew Scriptures in a way where his intellect was becoming counterintuitive to the Sanhedrin’s agenda.

An Inseparable Unity?

SO, can the historical Jesus and the cosmic Christ of Faith, for the sake of Christian theory’s survival, be separated? The evidence suggests not. The historical Jesus, a Hebrew prophet educating on the incoming presence of the “kingdom of God” (Rome) and the inward movement of the kingdom of God (a dispensation of understanding), is the foundation for the mythological Christ of Faith, whose cosmic significance Christian theologians have transformed over the centuries. While individuals like Strauss and Crossan seek to peel away theology, and others like Anderson and Wright insist on their unity, the truth lies in the tension. This is all for the sake of Christian theory, which needs an apparently concrete figure to make their belief appear credible. But seeing as how the historical minister was not a Christian walking around calling himself “Christ” or “Son of Man,” the man himself would not actually need his Greek myth to get his point across. Surely all of this encourages us to continue to wrestle with the paradox of history and faith.

References

Anderson, P. N. (2013). The Jesus of history, the Christ of faith, and the Gospel of John. In The Gospels: History and Christology: The Search of Joseph Ratzinger—Benedict XVI (Vol. 2, pp. 63–81). Libreria Editrice Vaticana.

Collins, A. Y. (n.d.). The historical Jesus: Then and now.

Samuels, P.-P. (n.d.). A critical analysis of the Jesus of history vs. the Christ of faith debate.

Wright, N. T. (1996). The historical Jesus and Christian theology. Sewanee Theological Review, 39.

Was Paul’s Resurrection Doctrine Jewish or Hellenistic?

The apostle Paul stands at the crossroads of Jewish theology and Hellenistic philosophy, particularly in his conceptualization of resurrection and eschatology. Nowhere is this synthesis more evident than in 1 Corinthians 15, where Paul distinguishes between a "natural body" and a "spiritual body." This concept, which appears foreign to traditional Hebrew thought, bears striking similarities to Hellenistic philosophical and mythological frameworks.

This blog will explore how Paul's resurrection doctrine is rooted more in Hellenistic influences than in the Hebrew scriptures, demonstrating an ideological shift that suggests a hybridization of Jewish (not Hebrew) theology and Greco-Roman philosophy.

Hellenistic Mysticism and Paul's Resurrection Doctrine

Hellenistic philosophy, particularly Platonism and the mystery religions, placed great emphasis on dualism—the separation of the material and spiritual realms. Paul’s idea of the natural body (sōma psychikon) and the spiritual body (sōma pneumatikon) in 1 Corinthians 15:44 closely aligns with this worldview. In contrast, Hebrew philosophy, as seen in Genesis 2:7, maintains a more unified view of human existence, where the body and soul are inextricably linked.

Hellenistic mysticism played a significant role in shaping Paul's theological perspectives, particularly concerning resurrection and union with Christ. The influence of mystery religions is evident in Paul’s emphasis on spiritual rebirth and transformation through mystical union with Christ. These mystery cults, such as those dedicated to Osiris, Dionysus, and Mithras, promised initiates a new spiritual life through symbolic death and resurrection.

The concept of mystical union, where the believer becomes one with the divine, was a well-established idea in Hellenistic religions. In these traditions, initiates underwent initiation rites that were believed to align them with the experiences of their deities. Paul’s notion of "dying and rising with Christ" (Romans 6:3-5) closely mirrors these themes. The idea that a believer experiences a transformation that leads to a new divine state aligns more with Hellenistic mysticism than with Hebrew covenantal theology, which emphasized obedience and restoration rather than mystical transformation.

Paul’s use of the term "new creation" further reflects this influence. In Hellenistic mystery religions, initiates were considered to be "reborn" into a new, divine state. Similarly, Paul speaks of believers as "new creatures" in Christ (2 Corinthians 5:17), indicating a break from their former existence and entrance into a spiritually transformed life. This rebirth concept is largely absent in the Hebrew scriptures, but aligns with the ritual transformations found in Greco-Roman religious traditions.

Moreover, Paul's references to ecstatic experiences, prophecy, and glossolalia (speaking in tongues) reflect practices common in Hellenistic religious cults. The display of “spiritual gifts” and ecstatic worship had a precedent in the Dionysian and Orphic traditions, where frenzied states were considered acts of divine communion. While Judaism had a prophetic tradition, the manner in which Paul describes spiritual gifts bears closer resemblance to these Hellenistic cultic experiences than to Jewish prophetic traditions.

Paul’s Departure from Hebrew Eschatology

Hebrew eschatology, as depicted in texts such as Daniel 12:2 and Ezekiel 37, envisions bodily resurrection as a restoration of physical life on earth. The righteous are revived from the dust to continue life in a renewed Israel, not to attain an ethereal, spiritual existence. However, Paul’s concept of resurrection involves a transformation into a "spiritual body," which is neither purely physical nor bound to the earthly realm. This concept bears resemblance to Hellenistic philosophical notions of the immortal soul transcending the material world, a view articulated by Plato and later developed in Stoicism and Middle Platonism.

Furthermore, Paul's phrase "flesh and blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God" (1 Corinthians 15:50) contradicts the Hebrew belief in bodily resurrection. In Jewish thought, resurrection reaffirms physical life, whereas Paul proposes a metamorphosis into an incorruptible, non-physical state. This shift reflects a distinctly Hellenistic disdain for the perishable body and an aspiration for spiritual transcendence.

Paul’s Jewish heritage influenced his eschatology, but his interpretation was fundamentally altered by Hellenistic influences. His discussion of dying and rising with Christ (Romans 6:3-5) aligns with mystery religions' initiation rituals, where symbolic death and rebirth were central to achieving divine union. Furthermore, Paul's notion that believers are already seated in heavenly places with Christ (Ephesians 2:6) suggests a metaphysical participation in divine existence, differing significantly from Hebrew conceptions of resurrection as a future earthly event.

The Influence of Stoicism and Platonic Thought

Paul’s vision of the afterlife also incorporates Stoic and Platonic ideas. The Stoic belief in the dissolution of material existence into a higher spiritual reality is echoed in Paul's assertion that the perishable must put on the imperishable (1 Corinthians 15:53). Likewise, Plato’s concept of the "true self" being liberated from the constraints of the body finds resonance in Paul’s longing to be "absent from the body and present with the Lord" (2 Corinthians 5:8).

Additionally, there is an evident link have between Paul’s rhetorical parallels and Hellenistic mystery cults. In these traditions, salvation is achieved through initiation into divine knowledge (gnosis) and transformation through sacred rituals. Paul’s notion that believers are "baptized into Christ’s death" and "raised with Him" (Romans 6:4) functions similarly to these rites, where the initiate undergoes a symbolic death and rebirth.

Paul’s Theological Hybridization

Paul’s concept of resurrection represents a fusion of Jewish eschatology with Hellenistic philosophy and mystery religion. While he maintains the notion of bodily resurrection, he reinterprets it through a framework that prioritizes spiritual transformation over physical restoration for a supernatural or mythological resurrection. His distinction between "natural" and "spiritual" bodies, as well as the rejection of flesh and blood as inheritors of “God's kingdom,” indicates a significant departure from the Hebrew Scriptures.

Rather than seeing Paul’s resurrection doctrine as a supposed continuation of Hebrew thought (which it is not), it is more accurately understood as a Hellenistic reinterpretation of Jewish eschatology. His theological theories reflect the broader Greco-Roman intellectual milieu, demonstrating that early Christianity developed not in isolation, and not ultimately with the Bible, but as a dialogue between Hellenistic Jewish tradition and Greco-Roman religious philosophy.

 

 References

Easton, B. S. (1917). The Pauline Theology and Hellenism. The American Journal of Theology, 21(3), 358-382.

Knopf, R. (1914). Paul and Hellenism. The American Journal of Theology, 18(4), 497-520.

Devotional Renewal: The Transformative Power of Solitude with the Bible

In the religious world, tradition often calls us to trust routines and theories that are rarely examined on a personal level. These traditions can cause us to conform our beliefs to religious speculation rather than an authentic, meaningful, and useful understanding. This dynamic makes it crucial to find moments of solitude with the Bible—time to reflect deeply, question freely, and connect with our devotional character.

My journey is always connected to a verse that resonates deeply with it: "God setteth the solitary in families: he bringeth out those which are bound with chains" (Psalm 68:6). The Bible's liberation is not about breaking literal chains, but the spiritual and religious burdens we carry. Through solitude, I allow my devotional conversation time to align with the Bible's. It is in these moments that I experience the Bible’s intended "resurrection," gaining inward wisdom and strength by letting its words revive my understanding and concept of self.

The Importance of Solitude

Solitude is more than physical isolation; it is a state of intentional reflection and focus. Philosophically, solitude offers a sacred space to step away from normal distractions to not only embrace the Bible’s deeper reality, but also the deeper reality of who we are as human and as devotional creatures.

The Bible celebrates solitude as a place of connection and renewal with the living Mind of the living God. Abraham, as Isaiah 51:2 tells us, was "called alone" and blessed greatly. This practice of solitude is also exemplified within the book of Mark, as Mark 1:35 describes: "And in the morning, rising up a great while before day, he went out, and departed into a solitary place, and there prayed." Solitude is where the heart communes with understanding, undisturbed by worldly religious noise.

The Benefits of Solitude for Personal Growth

Solitude encourages the focus needed to grasp the Bible’s deeper logic. As Isaiah 28:9-10 teaches, understanding comes by building knowledge "precept upon precept, line upon line." This reflective process is magnified in solitude, where we have the time to learn the Bible’s character, allowing us to connect "spiritual things with spiritual" (1 Corinthians 2:13).

There is also an emotionally healing aspect to how the Bible would educate our devotional character. The Bible offers profound emotional solace during solitary reflection. Words can heal. Ecclesiastes 7:2 reveals that contemplating life's transience can bring clarity and peace: "It is better to go to the house of mourning... the living will lay it to his heart." Solitude creates space for this transformative contemplation.

Time with the Bible means the regeneration and the refreshing of our personal and devotional self, offering to us a reminded that spiritual renewal often begins in quiet moments. Through solitude, we open ourselves to incredible wisdom, inviting a rebirth of purpose, understanding, and connection with our belief.

Practical Steps to Embrace Solitude

Creating a Safe Space
Quietness makes learning comfortable. The author writing the book of Romans even associates learning with comfort, writing that what is written from Genesis to Malachi is for “our learning, that we through patience and comfort of the scriptures might have hope” (Romans 15:4). Choose a safe and quiet place to focus entirely on reflection. Remember that quietness equals comfort, and comfort, to the Bible, equals learning.

Daily or Weekly Practices
Start small—set aside just 10-15 minutes daily for solitude. Use this time for reflection on the Bible’s words, or on the impact of those words on self, or simply sitting in silence to connect with your thoughts and emotions. OR embrace the Bible-scheduled weekly therapeutic appointment for the seventh day. The hours of this period of time are for “rest,” which in the original language means that these hours are for the philosophical rejuvenation of our devotional character’s thoughts and feelings. This is not a “church day.” This appointment is for refreshing our belief’s understanding and purpose.

Overcoming Distractions
Minimize distractions by turning off devices and notifying loved ones of your quiet time if necessary. Focus on the present moment, on retaining an aspect or a concept or a counsel from within the Bible, gently bringing your mind back if it wanders.

Guided Reflection Practices

Meditative Reading
Choose a Bible passage, or even one or two verses and read it slowly, reflecting on its symbolic meaning. Ask yourself how it speaks to your current experiences or challenges. If inclined to further reflect, look for similar instances of that passage, or of those verses, within other familiar passages or verses within the Bible. Write what you find. Reflect on it. Apply it to your experience and/or to other previously relatable passages or verses within the Bible.

Journaling
Write down your reflections and insights during solitary moments. Journaling can reveal patterns in your thoughts and help you track devotional growth over time. These writings will give you material for examination, ensuring your journey never lacks of content.

Prayer and Contemplation
Structure your prayer around what are reflecting on. Your prayers should match the Bible’s intended experience. Always cite your findings in your prayers. Our prayers will be answered if revolving around the wisdom gained and practically experienced from within the Bible.

Be abraham

Solitude is a gift that allows us to deepen our understanding, heal emotionally, and renew our mind. By embracing these quiet moments with the Bible, we unlock the Abraham experience, our devotional conversation receiving the Bible’s intended circumcision. Follow the Bible’s advice and embrace devotional solitude.